Legends of Terra: Death of a Demon
by ObsidianFlutes
Summary: Welcome to Part 2 of the Legends of Terra series! After Cthulhu's defeat, the focus now turns to a young warrior and the horrifying demon he must face in the darkest depths of hell... hope you have a strong stomach, because it's going to get disgusting. REALLY disgusting. Easily repulsed people need not apply.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The two-headed demoness met him at the bottom of the shaft. She was frightening to look upon, with leathery black wings, mottled pink skin, and mouths bursting with needlelike teeth. Ram horns twisted from the sides of her heads and purple chains circled her wrists and ankles, binding her power. Her forked tail was long and skinny, and writhed like a snake.

"Master," one of her heads hissed. "It awaits."

"Take me to it," he said. "Take me to my abomination."

"But, Master," the other head hissed. "It has not fully healed -"

"Take me to it, Equenel," he commanded, eyes flashing like blue steel.

The demoness's heads nodded. "Of course, Master." She escorted him to a large central chamber, so tremendous that the roof, though brightly lit, was clouded with shadow. At the bottom there lay a huge, shapeless mass of flesh, spread over the whole floor, trembling in agony. Its body was rife with fresh wounds and old scars, and as it trembled it oozed blood. Capillaries spurted openly on its body as it lay on the chamber's floor, staining the black obsidian dark red with their contents.

Equenel took him in her long, thin claws and descended to a spot on the floor untouched by the grotesque mass. He reached out his hand and gently caressed the infected flesh.

"Hello, my abomination," he said soothingly as the mass writhed in pain. "Do you recognize not your master?"

The flesh's wrinkled eyelids blinked open, revealing two diseased, rheumy eyes. Its massive mouth opened and closed, revealing several hundred teeth. They were very long, incredibly sharp, and stained a filthy brown.

"Master," it whimpered.

He smiled gently. "That's what I thought."

"Master," Equenel hissed in his ear, "it is diseased. Wounded. Must you?"

"Hush, Equenel," he hissed back. "It is time for things to become more harsh for it." He removed a long, barbed whip from a sheath on his back. The demoness sighed, picked him up, and started flying around the cavern with him. He cracked the whip again and again, lashing fresh wounds across the quivering flesh and painting bloody stripes all over it. The flesh's mouth opened once again and it bellowed, screaming in agony until its roars could be heard all across hell...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Meanwhile, at the Warriors' Guild..._

Lorre rushed through the hallway, laughing with triumph. Over his shoulder was his wooden broadsword and under his arm, tied tightly shut, was the mouth of a burlap sack. Inside the sack, squealing, was the headmaster's pet dinosaur, Cora. He knew he'd done it this time, but some of his colleagues had threatened him at sword point to steal the baby reptile. Maybe when they saw her, they'd slacken off.

Lorre reached a door, tossed in the sack, and thrust himself into the broom closet. He sat there, panting, for a second, when suddenly the sharp tip of a sword pressed itself into the soft flesh of his neck. He looked down and saw a shaft of gold poking into the shadows. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. _Saven._

A soft voice chuckled. "Well, look here. It's Lorre the loser." The owner of the gold sword sauntered into view. Saven Kellforth was a tall, muscular redhead with sly blue eyes and a permanent smirk. Lorre was horribly afraid of him; however, so was everyone else in the guild. And of course, Lorre was scared of everyone except for his friend Cassandra Dale.

"H-Hi, Saven," Lorre gulped, his Adam's apple struggling against the golden tip of the sword. "I-I have Cora."

"Well, isn't that dandy?" smiled Saven. "Perhaps there's hope for you after all." He withdrew the sword a little, so that the tip still tickled Lorre's throat.

At that moment, the door to the broom closet opened and a single shaft of light darted in, illuminating the cleaning implements, the struggling burlap sack, and Lorre's guilty face.

_..._

Cyrrus Ironfist, the headmaster of the Warriors' Guild, yanked Lorre out of the broom closet by his collar and opened the burlap sack. Cora the dinosaur leaped into his arms and he sighed. "You've really done it this time, Lorre."

"I know, sir," Lorre mumbled. Cyrrus was an imposing figure. He was nearly six feet tall, with pale blond hair and dark brown eyes. A long scar slithered around his left eye and down his cheekbone, where it met with a bank of stubble on his chin. He always wore a silver chest plate and pair of greaves, tarnished with age. His platinum broadsword hung in a sheath at his side.

"Well," he said calmly, "you know the drill. Into the silt warehouse with you."

Lorre could not suppress a groan. His usual punishment for getting in trouble was to go to the silt warehouse and feed silt into the Extractinator until he had enough platinum to make a broadsword, which was then given to Cyrrus. His feet felt like anvils as he dragged himself across the courtyard to the warehouse.

The damp smell of the silt wafted across the warehouse to him, and he wrinkled his nose. Lorre slowly picked up the first bale of silt and heaved it onto the mouth of the extractinator. Bits of silt flew around the warehouse as it started pumping out ores, gems and coins.

Copper, gold, amber, tungsten, platinum, lead, diamond, silver, iron... the treasures chugged down the conveyor belt into a small bin. In between feeding silt into the machine, Lorre would pick out chunks of raw platinum ore and set them aside. He shoved the ore into the forge, slowly smelting it into bars. Once he had enough bars, he picked up a hammer and the freshly smelted metal and plodded to the anvil in the corner. Sparks flew as he halfheartedly beat the metal, dancing on the concrete floor before winking out.

Lorre stayed in the warehouse for several hours, whacking at the platinum, shaping the silver-blue metal into a beautiful broadsword. Finally, he wiped down the shining blade with a soft rag, wrapped the hilt in a strip of leather, and bounded back across the courtyard to present the sword to Cyrrus.

Cyrrus Ironfist took the sword, turning it over in his hands. "Impressive work, Lorre. I must say, all those times in the silt warehouse have really improved your craftsmanship."

"Thank you, sir. I even stuck a piece of amber in the pommel," said Lorre proudly.

"Very creative. I'm glad to see you're using the other minerals that come from that machine," Cyrrus said, beaming at Lorre. "Listen, Lorre, there's something I need to see you about in my office. Come with me."

Lorre couldn't help but feel a mounting sense of dread as he followed Cyrrus into his office.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_One week earlier..._

There were three of them down there: two young women and a man. One of the young women wore armor, an impenetrable purple affair stylized after the hardened carapace of a beetle, complete with an insectile mask that completely concealed her face. The other woman was dressed in light robes, her belly swollen with child. The young man was her husband, and she leaned on his shoulder as they continued.

"Are you really sure we should be doing this?" she asked. "The Underworld isn't my favorite place."

"You used to be cool," muttered the armored woman.

"At least take off that creepy bug mask," said the pregnant woman's husband. "I think I speak for both of us when I say it freaks me out."

"We're down here to find Xyvareth, and he's incredibly dangerous. There's no way this armor is coming off." A sudden noise in the shadows grabbed her attention, and quick as lightning the armored woman whipped around, hands instinctively reaching for the dual sabers strapped to her back.

"Ah, my old nemesis. Still as beautiful as ever, I see," came a voice from the shadows, and a man stepped forth. He had night-black hair tied in a ponytail, light blue eyes, and was dressed impeccably. He would have been extremely handsome were it not for the steel in his eyes and the hatred in his face.

"Xyvareth," the armored woman snarled, "you have one warning. Stop this. Don't raise the demon. This is the first, last, and _only_ time I will ask you nicely."

"And what if I don't?" sneered the man in the shadows.

The armored woman pulled out her sabers. Each glimmered with golden light.

"I've been practicing with dual blades," she growled. "And I've been getting _dangerously_ good."

"Very well," Xyvareth replied. "Let's see what they think." He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Immediately, legions of demons popped their ugly heads up out of holes in the ground and flew slowly over to him.

"Ohhh, I don't like this," the pregnant woman whined, clinging to her husband. "This can't be good."

Xyvareth looked around at his demons, smiled wickedly, and uttered one command: "KILL."

The demons leapt at the woman. She flashed her swords, specially made to fire replicas of themselves when swung, and brandished the legendary weapons before the crowd of demons.

The demons charged. The woman's swords whirred, impossibly fast, becoming a blur of gold and green as demons fell all around her. However, though she was fast and strong, the demons were numerous and overwhelmed her. Xyvareth looked at the three, first at the armored woman lying on the ground, then at the pregnant woman, then at her husband. He snapped his fingers and chains leapt out of nowhere, binding them.

"I _will_ raise the demon," he snarled, "and I'm not letting any of you stop me." He turned to a demon, and said, "Throw them in the dungeon. I've got a demon to raise."

**NOTE: Xyvareth is not my own character. The name comes from a great Terraria webcomic by Jesse McMinn, called The Legend of Maxx (which is why the Hammush is in the game). I won't spoil where in the webcomic the name comes from, so go and check it out - it's a good time!**

**WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED STORY.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Meanwhile, back at the Warriors' Guild, one week later..._

Lorre followed Cyrrus into his office, not sure what to expect. He was relieved to see a comfortable room with a large window and a few overstuffed chairs instead of the torture dungeon created by rumor. Cyrrus sat down behind his desk and gestured toward one of the chairs, indicating that Lorre should sit.

"Now, Lorre," he said, leaning forward. "I brought you here because you're untrustworthy, whiny, and scared of absolutely everything. That's why you're perfect for the job I have in mind."

"Um, what?" Lorre asked, bewildered. "What's going on? Is this a joke?"

"I'm afraid not, Lorre," said Cyrrus sadly. "You see, you've attended this guild for seven years. _Seven years, Lorre._ That's seven years of me enduring you getting in trouble with everyone else. I can't help you. There's nothing really more I can do for you. The only person who can help you with your sword mastery is my daughter, Ramisse. Unfortunately, she and two of her friends disappeared a week ago. I need your help to get her back. Miss Dale has volunteered to help you."

"Um, do you know where she is?

"She was last seen in the Underworld."

"Oh, hell," Lorre cursed to himself.

"That's right, hell. It's a dangerous place, so I'll give you some better armor and a better sword to help."

"Um, thank you, sir," Lorre mumbled.

"Lorre?" Cyrrus asked. Lorre turned back, and Cyrrus beamed at him. "Good luck. You leave tomorrow at sunrise."

"I'm sure I'll need it, sir," Lorre said, smiling back.

He continued out into the hallway and was suddenly tackled by a flying blond mass. "WOOOOO!"

"Cassandra, _whyy-y?_ I thought you already proved you can pin me!" Lorre laughed, struggling up.

"I want to make sure I haven't lost my _edge_," Cassandra giggled, drawing her mahogany broadsword. "Get it? Edge?"

"Very funny, but what's your _point?_" Lorre retorted, drawing his own sword.

Cassandra laughed. "That one was _sharp!_"

"Seriously, enough with the sword jokes. I'm about to die laughing," Lorre said in all solemnity. "Can you believe this quest?"

"I don't think I can," Cassandra said. "In fact, I refuse to. _Tra-la-la-la-la, nothing is wrong._"

"This is serious, Cass," he reprimanded. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Don't worry, Lorre. Nothing will happen as long as we're together," Cassandra said soothingly, taking his hand. "Sleep well tonight, okay?"

"Okay. I'll... I'll see you at sunrise. In the courtyard." Lorre and Cassandra turned and went to their quarters, ready for a long and quite possibly sleepless night.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Thud. Whack. Thud-whack-crash. Crash-whack-thud-whump-bam._

Cassandra sat up in bed, alarmed at the noise. She slowly strapped the sheath of her sword to her waist and silently crept into the training hall, where the noise was coming from.

Something stirred in the shadows and Cassandra drew her sword, the dark red mahogany almost black in the absence of light, her hands shaking with fear. There was a loud thud right near her ear, and she gasped.

"Cassandra? Is that you?" Lorre's voice whispered.

"Yes," she sighed with relief. A torch flared up in the darkness and Lorre placed it in its bracket. The shadows fled as the training hall was flooded with light. Wisps of straw and shreds of fabric covered the floor, as well as pieces of practice dummies.

Lorre's brown hair was tousled and his green eyes were concerned. "What are you doing here at this hour of night?"

"I think a better question would be what you were doing," Cassandra said, sitting down on a bench and shivering.

"You look cold," Lorre said, gently wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly, drawing the ends of the blanket around her. "What was the noise earlier?"

"Oh, that..." Lorre said, glancing guiltily at the straw and cloth covering the floor. "I couldn't sleep, so I was trying to practice on the dummies."

"Looks like you killed them," Cassandra said, picking up what looked like a head.

"Yeah," Lorre laughed softly, sitting down next to her. "I wonder who's going to clean this up tomorrow."

"Not us, definitely," she whispered, taking his hand.

"Cassandra?"

"Yes?"

Lorre sighed heavily. "If something bad happens... on the journey... you just go on without me. Okay?"

"I wouldn't leave you," she said tenderly, and she stood up and softly kissed Lorre on the cheek. "Sleep tight." With that, Cassandra turned and walked back to her quarters.

After a few minutes, Lorre took the torch out of its bracket and went to his own quarters, and slept soundly through the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Lorre awakened to Cyrrus gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, Lorre. Today's the day."

"Is there anything I need to pack or get ready?" Lorre mumbled.

"No," Cyrrus reassured him. "All your necessities - clothes, food, soap - are in your bundles. The only thing not packed is your new sword and armor. I was going to show you and Cassandra how to use them. She's outside right now." Lorre sleepily arose from his cot, put on some clothes in his bathroom, and shuffled out after Cyrrus into the courtyard.

Cassandra was there, dressed in a set of red-and-black armor that shimmered in the weak sunlight. A similar set lay next to her, and Lorre started to put it on. "This armor is made out of crimsonite. The great thing about it is that it lets you heal faster from your injuries."

"Are our swords made of crimsonite too?" Lorre asked, fitting the helmet on his head.

"You could say that," Cyrrus said, removing two items from a nearby chest. "Well, you could also say they aren't really swords." He handed one of the items to Lorre and the other to Cassandra. Lorre inspected the object, turning it over and over in his hands. It was made of gray metal, with a handle tapering out to a wide triangular frame. A skull motif adorned the handle, and nestled inside the frame were eight tiny blood-red daggers, each smaller than his pinky finger. They were the smallest knives Lorre had ever seen.

"What exactly are these baby knives?" Cassandra asked. She had removed one of the daggers from its housing and was holding the minuscule blade in her palm. "They're so small."

"These, Cassandra, are vampire knives," Cyrrus said, taking them from her. "Once you strike an enemy with them, they drain its health and leech it to you. This is how you use them. Slide the skull forward to launch the knives - the farther you slide, the more knives will be launched. To withdraw the knives, pull back on the skull. Observe." He slid the skull forward a tiny bit, and a single dagger shot from the housing. Cyrrus withdrew the knife, then pushed the skull farther forward. Four of the knives flew out of the weapon. Finally, after pulling them back, he pushed the skull forward as far as it would go and all eight of the blades burst from the weapon and impaled themselves in the courtyard fence.

Cyrrus turned to his awestruck students. "Any questions?"

"N-no, sir," Lorre said, holding the vampire knives very carefully. They suddenly seemed very delicate, as if they would break if he so much as held them the wrong way.

"Very well then," Cyrrus said matter-of-factly. "To get to the Underworld, you need to get to the Hellevator. It's in the snow biome. That's your first destination."

"Well... goodbye, sir," Lorre said.

"Godspeed, Lorre and Cassandra," said Cyrrus.

With that, he turned and walked back to his office.

After a minute or two, Cassandra and Lorre turned and walked the other way.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Xyvareth stood on the ledge, looking over the demon in the pit. "I hope this is important, Equenel," he said. "I do hate being summoned for trivial matters."

"You will not be disappointed, Master," Equenel's left head replied. "It is growing stronger and stronger by the day."

"Indeed," he said admiringly. Instead of a pile of infected flesh, trembling in agony, the demon had undergone a complete transformation into a writhing mass of pure muscle that quivered with power.

"I have been training it well, Master," she hissed. "Watch this." Equenel snapped her fingers, and immediately the demon bunched itself up and began to rise, muscles pulling and straining upwards and upwards until Equenel snapped her fingers again.

"Remarkable," Xyvareth said to Equenel. "You are dismissed, Equenel." She nodded her heads and drifted away.

Xyvareth turned back to the demon and smiled at the massive creature.

"Soon," he said.

_Meanwhile..._

"This sucks," said Lorre. "Nothing but desert as far as the eye could see. At this rate, we'll never get to the snow."

"Cheer up, Lorre," said Cassandra. "At least we can have some fun here." She removed the helmet from her head and shook her long blond hair loose. Then she removed her chest plate and greaves, revealing her simple white cotton clothes.

"What are you doing?" Lorre asked warily.

"Getting ready to play in the sand," she replied. Then Cassandra reached into her pack and pulled out shovels and buckets. "Lorre, Dr. Cassandra is about to teach you an important lesson of life. Listen carefully. Also, I don't know about you, but that armor is super overheated. I got really hot inside it."

"I think you're really hot outside it," Lorre said shamelessly.

"Don't flirt with me," Cassandra laughed. "We're supposed to be questing, not courting."

"O.K., Dr. Cassandra," Lorre replied. "I'll take off my armor."

"Good," she said. "Okay, the lesson of life. Are you wondering why I've got this stuff in front of me?"

"It has crossed my mind," Lorre said.

"Well," she said, starting to scoop sand into the bucket. "You were just complaining that there was nothing but sand. But..." Cassandra upended the bucket. A perfect cone-shaped sand castle stood there on the yellow surface. "Sand is a nice thing. It's soft, warm, and it just made this sand cone."

"So you're saying to see the optimism in everything?" Lorre asked.

"Correct," Cassandra said.

"I have a question," Lorre said in a childish voice. "Have you ever played roller?"

"Roller? What's that?" Cassandra asked, cocking her head curiously.

"YAHHH!" Lorre yelled, and then tackled her. Laughing, they rolled down the dune in a tangle of hair, limbs, and sand. About halfway down the dune, Lorre's lips found Cassandra's.

They were still kissing when they finally came to a stop at the foot of the dune.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Lorre awoke in some soft, warm sand. He looked up and saw the sun peeking over the horizon. Cassandra was lying, still asleep, next to him. Lorre examined her for a while. She was curled up in a relaxed fetal position, her blond hair fanning behind her, her side rising and falling ever so gently with the soft and ceaseless motion of her breathing. Lorre blinked in surprise. Had he always found her this beautiful?

Cassandra looked so fresh and innocent, lying asleep in the sand, that Lorre almost couldn't bear to wake her up, so it was with some reluctance that he gently shook her shoulder and whispered, "Good morning, sunshine," in her ear.

Her sapphire blue eyes blinked open. "Mmm. Good morning, Lorre." She yawned and got up to stretch.

"Did you realize you are absolutely beautiful when you sleep?" Lorre blurted out before he could stop himself.

"WHAT?!" Cassandra shouted, suddenly exponentially more awake.

"I-I couldn't help it! I got up before you, and you looked so pretty... I just didn't want to ruin it by waking you up," Lorre said weakly.

_"You watched me while I was sleeping,_" Cassandra snarled.

"I'm sorry, Cassandra," Lorre said sadly. "I'm such a terrible person."

"Yes. You really are," Cassandra spat, and she turned her back on him.

"Should we get moving?" Lorre suggested, putting on his armor. "I think we're nearing the end of the desert."

"Sure, sure," Cassandra said angrily, stepping into her greaves. Lorre picked up his pack and watched her for a second.

"Cassandra," he said.

"_Yes,_" she growled, without turning to him.

Lorre opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

"Never mind," he said sadly, turning away and starting to walk.

Only when he was out of earshot did Cassandra turn around to look at him. As he disappeared into the dust and mirages of the desert, a single tear rolled down her cheek. "What am I going to do?" she whispered to herself.

_Meanwhile..._

"Master," Equenel said, addressing Xyvareth in his quarters. "You need to come and examine your demon."

"What's wrong with it, Equenel? It isn't like you to come to my quarters," said Xyvareth.

"Well, Master... um, the only way to describe what is wrong is that it is beginning to hunger for flesh," Equenel said nervously.

Xyvareth sat bolt upright, eyes flashing. "What?"

"You heard what I said. Just minutes ago, one of my officers was flying over the demon to inspect it, when it grabbed him with its tongue and devoured him as it flew above his mouth."

"Take me to the demon," Xyvareth thundered.

"Right away, Master," Equenel hissed, and together they bolted down the passageway to the demon's chamber.

The demon was lying there on the floor, just as it had been left. It had not moved. But covering its vast mouth was a large amount of blood, and the mouth was twisted into a massive and crocodilian smile.

"Delicious," it rumbled, and then it let out a deep and booming laugh that echoed all across hell...


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Lorre had been walking in the desert for a few hours when a single snowflake spiraled out of the blue and alighted on his nose. He crossed his eyes to look at it before it melted. "Aha," he said softly. "We're here."

He looked about to check out his surroundings. Small ice hills and caves dotted the landscape, glittering in the sunshine. Evergreen trees laden with snow stood, dignified, in sizable groves in the distance. As Lorre walked farther in, he went from walking on ever-shifting sand to soft, deep snow. More flakes fell from the sky, peppering his face, his chest, his helmet with tiny droplets of water.

Lorre looked up, at the snowflakes softly landing and melting on his face, and for the first time in days he laughed delightedly. _Just because I'm on a quest doesn't mean I can't enjoy myself,_he thought.

Lorre jumped off a stump and plunged into a snowbank, making a snow angel by flailing his arms and legs. He picked up clumps of clean snow and licked them, the powdered ice turning to cool water in his mouth. He even took a discarded piece of wood and went sledding. But when the snow person began to take form, with its hourglass figure and graceful limbs exactly like Cassandra's, Lorre began to feel a little sick at heart and walked away. "She'll turn up," he said to himself. "I know she will."

Night fell, and it started to get cold. Lorre shivered, gingerly extracting a blanket from his pack. Then he heard the voice of an old man near him. "You look cold, lad. Come to my cottage and warm yourself by my fire." Lorre turned and saw a wizened old man sitting near him on the ground.

"Who are you?" Lorre asked, warily drawing his vampire knives.

"Oh, you don't need to fire those on me, lad. I'm quite harmless," said the old man, getting to his feet. "I have no name. People simply call me the Hermit. Pray tell, what is your name?"

"Lorre Samariettus, sir," Lorre said, sheathing his knives. "I guess I'll call you Herman. Herman the Hermit."

"I'd rather you not call me names, as if I was a pet," said the Hermit. "I'll stick with the Hermit. That name... Lorre Samariettus. Yes. You were one of the two people who was foretold to come here and use the Hellevator. Where is your companion?"

"We had a spat," Lorre said. "We started fighting, and I left without her."

"That's a sad shame," said the Hermit. "Shall we go to my hut? I just knew that you would come today. I even made a fresh pot of stew."

"Thank you, Hermit," said Lorre gratefully, picking up his pack and following the old man into a small cottage at the edge of a spruce grove. The inside was simple: two chairs and a table, made of rough-hewn wood, and a roaring fire over which a cooking pot hung on a chain. The Hermit ladled stew from the pot into two large wooden bowls and handed one to Lorre.

"I hope this will warm you sufficiently for your journey," he said, placing a spoon in the bowl. "Of course, once you get to hell you won't need it."

"This is delicious, Hermit," Lorre said appreciatively, tasting the stew. "I wish Cassandra was here to taste it." A lump rose in his throat as he thought of her.

Suddenly there was a crash from outside, followed by a terrified scream and finally a loud splash.

Lorre thrust down his bowl. "I know that scream."

"Take a torch," said the Hermit, handing him a blazing firebrand. Lorre rushed outside into the cold, carrying the torch aloft. Though it was dark and snowing heavily, Lorre bolted towards the source of the scream, to the edge of a vast frozen lake.

A vast frozen lake with a Cassandra-sized hole in it.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Lorre skidded to a halt at the edge of the lake. There was a large patch of rotten ice in the middle, with a hole in it just large enough for Cassandra to have fallen in. Sure enough, if he squinted, he could see her blond hair waving around. Before he could do anything else, Lorre threw off his armor, tossed aside the torch, and plunged into the freezing water, clothes and all.

The water was so cold it nearly took his breath away, but he continued to stroke downwards until he saw Cassandra sitting on the bottom of the lake. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her hair waving above her head. Lorre grabbed her arm, threw it over his shoulders, and started swimming back to the surface.

Lorre broke the surface with a tremendous gasp, heaved Cassandra out of the water and onto the ice, and scrambled out. He was dripping wet, short of breath, and almost numb with cold, but he was alive - and more importantly, so was Cassandra, who was alive but unconscious. Lorre laid Cassandra out on her back, his fingers already blue with cold. He pressed his frostbitten hands against her chest again and again, feeling her heart beat but seeing no evidence on her body. Finally, he pressed down and Cassandra contorted, sitting up bolt upright for a second and expelling a huge cough of water. Then she fell back down, water dribbling from the corner of her mouth. She turned her head slightly and looked up at him with dull eyes.

"Lorre," she murmured. "You saved my life."

"No time for that now, Cass," Lorre grunted, scooping her up and dashing for the Hermit's cottage.

_Later..._

"More stew?" asked the Hermit, going to the cooking pot.

"I'm good for now," Lorre said, spooning some of the hot concoction into Cassandra's mouth. When Lorre had appeared at the Hermit's door with Cassandra a little while ago, dripping wet and nearly frozen, the Hermit had not hesitated to make him and his friend as warm and comfortable as possible. Lorre and Cassandra were sitting in front of the fire, wrapped from head to toe in thick woolen blankets with hot bricks at their feet. Cassandra was cold and weak, so Lorre was carefully feeding her stew to make her warmer and stronger. It seemed to be working; her cheeks had become rosy and pink, and her sapphire blue eyes were as alert and focused as ever.

"Are you warm enough, Miss Dale?" asked the Hermit of Cassandra.

"Yes, thank you," she said, smiling at him. "I'm quite comfortable. However, I think Lorre may be having some problems." She gestured to the spoon Lorre had dropped on the floor. He was examining the fingers on his left hand with horror and distaste; they were badly frostbitten and the middle one was gray and dead-looking.

The Hermit bent down to examine the fingers. "Well, Lorre, you'll keep all your other ones, but I'm afraid you're going to lose that finger," he said, cradling Lorre's left hand in his own.

"Well," Lorre mumbled, "at least now I can't flip people off." He laughed weakly.

"Poor Lorre," said Cassandra, scooting closer to him and rubbing his back. "At least it's your finger and not your life."

"More like it's my finger and not _your_ life," Lorre laughed, putting his good hand around Cassandra's shoulders. Then, suddenly, he realized what had moved him to jump into the lake in the first place.

Lorre leaned to Cassandra's ear and softly whispered, "I love you, Cassandra Dale."

Cassandra was taken aback for a moment, then she whispered, "I love you right back, Lorre Samariettus."

And that short exchange of words kept them warmer, for a brief moment, than all the blankets in the world.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_Meanwhile, in the Underworld..._

"Can you sense anything yet?" the young man whispered to his wife.

"No," she said, discouraged. "Wait... wait, hold on, I've got a lock on something!"

"Really?" he asked her, giving her a hug. "That's great! Wake up! She's found something!" he said, prodding the armored woman with his elbow.

"What's going on?" asked the armored woman groggily, propping herself up on one elbow. "She found something?"

"Yes! Do you know what it is?" he asked his wife eagerly.

"Hold on... looks like one person... no, two people," she said, eyes squeezed shut. "They're right by the Hellevator. I bet they're coming to rescue us!"

"This is great," he said. "Now all we have to do..."

"...is wait," she finished.

_Back on the surface..._

"This won't hurt," said the Hermit, brandishing the small knife. Lorre took a deep breath, then splayed his left hand out on the table. Cassandra clutched his arm and laid her head on his shoulder, comforting him.

The Hermit laid the blade of the knife against the joint of Lorre's middle finger and, with a practiced hand, brought it down.

Cassandra gasped. The Hermit sighed in relief. Lorre didn't even flinch as the Hermit picked up his finger and threw it into the fire, where it slowly turned to ash.

The Hermit rubbed some ointment on the empty place on Lorre's hand, then wrapped it in some bandages. "This will heal right up in two or three days."

"Thank you, Hermit, for your food and hospitality," said Lorre.

"It's the least I can do," he replied. "No other man I have had the honor of meeting, whether insane or not, has done as you did and jumped into the lake. You, Lorre Samariettus, are either the bravest man I have ever met or the craziest madman I have ever seen. You and Cassandra have earned the right to descend the Hellevator."

"How can we repay you, Hermit?" Cassandra asked.

"You needn't worry yourself about such matters," the Hermit said, a friendly smile sneaking onto his time-worn features. "I'll figure something out. You two just stay safe in the shaft."

"Let's get going," Lorre said, putting his armor back on and picking up his bundle. He removed a pair of bottles full of teal liquid from his pack and handed one to Cassandra.

"What are these?" she asked, examining it.

"Featherfall Potions," he said. "You won't land hard at the bottom."

"Clever thinking, young lad," the Hermit said. "Godspeed."

"Farewell, Hermit," said Cassandra, and with one flourishing motion she downed the Featherfall Potion, waved goodbye, and jumped into the shaft, where she floated gently down. Lorre followed her with a similar motion.

It was only when they were out of earshot that the Hermit remembered his warning. "Oh, no," he cried to himself. "I forgot to warn them about the raising of the demon..."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Equenel," Xyvareth said.

"Yes, Master?" the demoness hissed.

"It is time," he replied, turning around.

"All is in readiness, Master. The ropes are in place and I have legions of lesser demons at my command."

"Then begin the process. I want to see it happen," Xyvareth said, starting down the corridor to the demon's chamber.

Equenel and Xyvareth stood at the edge of the pit. The demon lay calmly at the bottom. Ropes criss-crossed over and under its body, attached to pulley systems on the walls and ceiling, and ultimately ending at the feet of hundreds upon thousands of lesser demons. Equenel held up one of her claws, and the demons picked up the ropes, ready for the next command. She cupped her long hands around her mouths, took a deep breath, and in two synchronized voices, Equenel shouted, _"PULL!"_

The demons started pulling the ropes with all their might, muscles bulging in their arms as they hauled the mass of flesh upwards. Slowly, it started to tilt upwards until it was perpendicular to the ground, and Equenel shouted, _"STOP."_

"Well, my abomination," Xyvareth said, smiling up at the demon. "How does it feel?"

"The view is amazing up here," the demon boomed.

"Very well," Xyvareth chuckled. "All is nearly ready. You have become a demon worthy of your name... my beautiful crime against nature. My Wall of Flesh."

"I like that title," the demon boomed, and both it and Xyvareth started to laugh...

_Meanwhile..._

Lorre and Cassandra continued to gently float down the shaft.

"This shaft is longer than I thought," Cassandra grumbled.

"Cheer up, Cass. I can see the bottom," Lorre said. In fact, the bottom of the shaft was drawing ever closer. He landed ungracefully with an _umph_. Cassandra, a few meters above him, pointed her toes and landed delicately on the balls of her feet.

"Now THAT'S how you do it," she smirked.

"Just 'cause you landed, you don't have to gloat," Lorre smirked back. "We both made it. Alive."

"Yeah, now all we have to do is find Ramisse! Which should be easy... in several identical obsidian buildings..." she said, her enthusiasm dissipating rapidly as she trailed off. Sure enough, when they looked around, all they could see were tall black stone monoliths, with the occasional red one to break the monotony.

Lorre sighed and reluctantly drew his vampire knives. "Time to play hide-and-seek, I guess."

"Ramisse!" "Ramisse?" "Hello, Ramisse?" "Ramisse Ironfist?" Their shouts reverberated around the obsidian monoliths, echoing for many seconds before fading away. Suddenly, they heard a muffled voice from the monolith nearest them reply, "In here! Hurry!"

Lorre picked up a heavy iron-tipped obsidian bar, and slammed it into the wall as if it were a battering ram. The ancient obsidian wall crumbled to dust, revealing three people inside: a man and two young women, one wearing armor. The armored one flipped up her mask to reveal a face that was nearly a perfect copy of Cyrrus's, albeit without the scar, and smiled at them.

"Hello!" she said. "It's so good to see other people again. I thought we'd never get out of here. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Ramisse Ironfist."

"Pleased to meet you," Cassandra said, shaking Ramisse's callused hand.

"Hey!" the other young woman said amiably. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" She appeared to be in her early twenties, her green robe doing absolutely nothing to conceal the fact that she was extremely pregnant and quite close to giving birth. Her emerald green eyes, the same color as her hair, twinkled as she leaned on the young man's shoulder. He lifted his hand to stroke her hair, one eye sheathed behind a black patch, the other pale gold with laugh lines streaming from it.

"My apologies," Ramisse said. "These are my friends Thunder and Emi Zevulon."

"We're honored to make your acquaintance," said Thunder.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"So, how did you three get imprisoned?" Cassandra asked as the five of them walked through the forest of monoliths.

"Well, there's this dude called Xyvareth," said Ramisse. "He's one of my oldest nemeses. He's currently trying to raise and set loose a horrible demon called the Wall of Flesh. Basically, if the Wall of Flesh gets loose, it will allow the crimson to spread incredibly fast and will ultimately infect the world. We were down here to try and stop him, and, well... you saw where that got us."

"That's not good," said Lorre. "I'd like to meet this Xyvareth guy. I want him to meet my little friends," he snarled, brandishing his vampire knives.

"Only if he can meet mine too," Ramisse giggled, drawing her sabers and playfully flicking one. An ethereal, glowing green sword flew from the blade, whistling past the monoliths until it smashed into one of the red buildings nearby.

A crack appeared in the red brick and suddenly, just as the sword dissipated, the monolith crumbled to dust.

Ramisse glanced around awkwardly, sheathed her sabers, and muttered, "Oops."

"Great, Ramisse. Now they know we're here," Emi said indignantly, leaning on Thunder's shoulder. Sure enough, a two-headed demoness rounded the corner and glided over to them, smirking.

"Well, well, _well,"_ one of her heads remarked. "If it isn't the humans that my master threw into the prison last week. You're just in time, fools. Three people should be an excellent sacrifice to the Wall!"

"Who's that?" Lorre whispered to Ramisse.

"Equenel the Two-Minded," she whispered back. "Xyvareth's right-hand officer. They say he hired her because she was twice as smart as every other demon he'd met."

"I heard that," hissed Equenel, dancing around them, inspecting them. "Unfortunately, despite how flattered I am that you know my name, that feeling won't last because soon you'll be dead."

"We will not be subdued," Ramisse growled, drawing her sabers.

"Oooh! Feisty!" Equenel laughed playfully. "Listen, you can either do this the easy way or the hard way."

"I choose no way," Ramisse said, swiping with her swords. Equenel dodged one of the beams, but the second one hit her wrist and shattered the purple chains around it, then her other wrist, then her ankles.

Equenel's heads blinked in surprise. "The chains are broken," she whispered, inspecting her wrists. "I am free."

"Wait, what does this mean?" Lorre asked, bewildered.

Equenel sighed. "When I was hired by Xyvareth, he chained me to bind my power. Now, the chains are broken, and I am free to do whatever I want."

"Well, let's hope you don't want to kill us," Cassandra said.

"I don't now..." Equenel said. "I want to follow you. Xyvareth treated me badly. I want my revenge."

"Welcome to the gang, Equenel," said Ramisse. "I'm sure you'll love it here."

"YOU'LL DO NO SUCH THING," said a cold voice behind them. All six of them turned around, chills of dread sneaking down their spines when they saw the source of the voice.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up," Xyvareth snarled.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lorre and Cassandra were walking through the meadow one day.

"I love days like this," Cassandra said. "The sun is out, and everything's fine."

"Yeah," said Lorre.

Suddenly, a random hole appeared in the ground in front of them. "Hey, what's that?"

Cassandra shrugged. "I don't know."

The hole started to expand, grabbing hold of their legs and pulling them in. In a single blip, Lorre and Cassandra were no more. Then it started sucking in the trees and grass. More people from ObsidianFlutes' stories, like Sarx, Ginger, and Elle, flew shrieking into the hole, every one being reduced to a series of ones and zeroes which were then destroyed forever. Cries of "Help!" and "I don't like this!" and "NYAGGGGH!" rent the summer air. Finally, ObsidianFlutes herself came tumbling into the vacuum, gripping the edge with her fingers as the world collapsed around her. Then, with a scream, the hole swallowed her and FanFiction was gone.

SOPA stands for the Stop Online Piracy Act. If it becomes a law, then you can all kiss places like FanFiction and DeviantArt goodbye forever.

This is a free country. We should be allowed to do what we want on our internet sites. If you want to keep writing, then follow this link and sign the petition "Stop SOPA 2014."

.gov/petition/stop-sopa-2014/q0Vkk0Zr

(P.S. If FanFiction is still around by Wednesday, expect the real Chapter 14 of Legends of Terra. Also, fan fiction isn't cooperating with the URL, so look up Stop SOPA 2014 on Whitehouse Dot Gov. The full URL is https colon slash slash petitions dot whitehouse dot gov slash petition slash stop hyphen sopa hyphen 2014 hyphen q0Vkk0Zr.)


	15. Chapter 15: Real Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"You escaped at exactly the right time, you fools," Xyvareth snarled at the group.

"What does he mean?" Lorre asked Ramisse.

"No clue," she replied.

"Well," Xyvareth said delightedly, rubbing his hands together, "Shall I show you the way to your final destination?"

"No," said Cassandra.

Xyvareth shrugged. "Then you leave me no choice." He snapped his fingers, and purple chains identical to Equenel's former bonds sprang around their wrists and ankles. Lorre tried to pull them off, but Equenel shook her head. Sure enough, as Lorre moved his arms, the simple motion started to take more and more effort. His arms felt like they were made of lead. He fell to the floor, gasping.

"Poor boy," Xyvareth said with mock sympathy, patting Lorre's head. "Are you tired?"

Lorre looked up at him with an expression of pure venom, and struggled to his feet.

"Now, let's go, then," Xyvareth said cheerily, and started walking. The bedraggled team had no choice but to follow him.

Xyvareth led them into a large central chamber. Inside the chamber, stretching from the floor to the ceiling, was a vast wall of flesh.

"FOOD," it bellowed.

Xyvareth turned to face his prisoners. "You see, to be released, the Wall demands a living sacrifice. The traditional way is to use a voodoo doll to kill someone on the surface. But fresh blood is so much more effective!"

"You're a monster," Emi shrieked.

"I'm afraid you're quite mistaken," Xyvareth purred. "That wall of flesh is a monster. I, however, am a visionary."

"Whatever kind of visionary you are, I don't like it," Ramisse said. "If I could just reach my girls, I'd turn you into sashimi."

"MMM... SASHIMI," said the wall, drool pouring from its gaping mouth.

Xyvareth glanced back at the wall, then back at the group of prisoners. "Look, if you want to stop its bellowing, one of you is going to have to feed the wall. Are you hungry, Wall?" he shouted at the wall.

The wall roared, "HUNGRY!"

Xyvareth turned back to them. "Let's get on with it, then," he said cheerfully, unlocking Cassandra's chains. "We'll give him a nice, tender female to start."

Cassandra shared a long look with Lorre, and it was while he stared into her eyes that he realized what he needed to do.

Xyvareth picked up Cassandra by her collar and held her over the pit, swiveling to face the demon. While his back was turned, Lorre lifted his foot with a growl of effort, and with a bellow, kicked Xyvareth into the pit.

"You... utter... _fooooools!" _ Xyvareth shouted as he and Cassandra fell. Then the Wall's tongue shot out, wrapped around the two people, and dragged them into its mouth. Cassandra's scream was the last thing Lorre heard before she was swallowed whole.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Lorre awkwardly lifted one of Ramisse's swords out of its sheath and sliced open the cuffs binding his wrists. Then he held up the sword. "Anyone else lost circulation in their hands?"

"Yeah," said Thunder. "Who needs a lockpick when you have a Terra Blade?"

"Nobody, that's who," Ramisse chortled as Lorre broke open her cuffs. "Man, that feels good."

Emi didn't say anything when Lorre removed her cuffs. Her eyes were wide.

"What's wrong, Emi?" asked Lorre. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Actually, I didn't see a ghost," she said, her face pale. "I'm seeing a giant mound of flesh."

Lorre whipped around, still holding Ramisse's sword. Far behind him, charging towards him and destroying everything in its path, was the Wall of Flesh.

"Damn," he cursed. "I just got these chains off."

"You all look delicious," the wall boomed. "I guess my only dilemma is choosing who to eat first!"

Lorre nodded to Ramisse, tossed her the sword, drew his vampire knives. Ramisse snapped her other blade from its sheath and started flashing the glowing katanas threateningly. Then, with a shout, Lorre launched his vampire knives. The wall howled as the tiny daggers embedded themselves in its flesh. The knives shot back to their housing crackling with energy and life.

Meanwhile, Ramisse leapt around, swinging her swords and sending glowing green katanas flying all around, every one smacking the wall somewhere on its vast body. One flew into the Wall's mouth. When it struck the back of the mouth, the demon roared with agony, but Lorre heard a girl's high-pitched voice shout, "No! Not yet!"

"Cassandra!" Lorre exclaimed. Then he heard a shriek from behind him.

"Emi!" Thunder said to his wife. "What's wrong?"

_"Dammit, Thunder, I'm having a baby," _she snarled.

Thunder panicked. "Ramisse! Equenel! Emi's going into labor!"

"You're on your own, kid," Ramisse said to Lorre, and she tossed him her swords and ran to Emi. Equenel and Thunder picked her up and started carrying her to the shelter of a nearby monolith.

Lorre shouted, "CAN YOU HEAR ME, CASSANDRA?"

A faint voice answered, "Yes! Hurry!"

Lorre yelled, "I'm coming, Cass!" He crossed his fingers, held up his swords, and leaped up into the Wall's gaping maw.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Lorre landed on all fours in the Wall's mouth. He lit a torch and started to run through the dark, slimy cavern of its esophagus, shouting, "Cassandra? Where are you? I'm coming!"

"I'm afraid your journey ends here," said a cold voice. Lorre looked up and winced at the smell. He was standing near the end of the esophagus, mere feet away from the Wall's stomach. Standing at the edge was Xyvareth, who didn't look so good anymore. His face was covered with blood, his left eye swollen shut. When he spoke, he lisped slightly and Lorre could see missing teeth. He was holding Cassandra, alive and unhurt, over the boiling pool of acid in the stomach.

Xyvareth spoke again. "I'm warning you, Samariettus," he hissed, the air whistling through his missing teeth. "Make one move and your little lady dies."

Lorre reached for his shoulders, where the swords were sheathed. "Tell you what, Xyvareth," he said, withdrawing his hand. "I'll agree to your terms once we play a little hide and seek!"

Xyvareth realized too late that the small black object in Lorre's hand was a smoke bomb. There was a flash, then a thick cloud of smoke obscured the stomach and stayed put for several minutes until it cleared. When his head was clear, Lorre and Cassandra were gone.

"Where are we going?" Cassandra asked as they bolted back through the esophagus.

"I've got a plan," said Lorre with a wicked smile, holding up a pack of matches. "Hurry up, we're being pursued."

They reached a fork in the various slimy tubes. After a moment's hesitation, Lorre took the path on the right. After some running, Lorre and Cassandra reached a large red chamber entwined with veins and arteries. Hanging suspended in the middle of the chamber was a massive, pulsating heart.

Cassandra shuddered. "Euch." Lorre, however, removed a few sticks of dynamite from his pack and laid one next to the heart.

"Go, go, we've got to lay it down," he whispered, backtracking after her and laying down dynamite. Finally, they reached the mouth of the Wall.

Lorre handed Cassandra a match. "Do the honors." Cassandra took the match, struck it on one of the Wall's teeth, and lit the dynamite lying on the Wall's tongue. Then, without a sound, they leaped together out of the mouth and hit the ground running at top speed to the nearest monolith, at what they assumed was a safe distance.

Cassandra took Lorre's hand, rubbing the stump of his middle finger with a tender caress. "Just sit back and watch the fireworks."

Before it blew up, the Wall had a momentarily surprised look in its huge eyes. Then, all of a sudden, it started to shake. Finally, it exploded, sending blood, teeth, and scraps of flesh flying all over the place.

Lorre whooped with joy. "We did it, Cassandra! We won! We... did it..." His celebration was abruptly stopped when he saw Cassandra's stomach.

More accurately, the long, filthy tooth protruding from her stomach.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Cassandra collapsed to her knees and toppled onto her back. Lorre had only seen her look this close to death once, when he had pulled her from the frozen lake.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh, Lorre," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Remember when I saved your life, but lost my finger? I would give all my fingers, my hands, my arms and legs for your life," Lorre said, touching her cheek with his four-fingered hand.

"My time is coming," she replied, her voice fading, her eyes already becoming unfocused. "Time for you to kiss me goodbye."

Lorre, trembling, picked up her upper body and gave her a long, beautiful kiss. It was like that time on the dunes, thought Lorre somberly, except this time we can't get to the bottom.

After a minute or two, Lorre released her and laid her back down. She gazed up into his eyes and with a moan of effort, with the last of her strength, she lifted her hand and placed it on Lorre's chest, near his heart. Then, with a final sigh, her breath left her body and she was still.

Lorre felt everything inside him collapse, like he was the meridian along which the heavens were splitting, and there was nothing he could do except cry. His tears fell unchecked onto Cassandra's hair, her armor, her face.

Even though the battle was won, he had failed.

_Meanwhile..._

"Push, Emi. _Push," _commanded Ramisse. Emi screamed with terror and pain, clutching at Thunder's hands.

"Oh, please, let it be over soon," she wailed. "I can't take this anymore."

"Do not worry, Emi," said Equenel. "It will come soon."

"I know, I know, but I'm tired and it hurts and I - oh goodness, the Wall!"

"What about it?" said Thunder soothingly, patting Emi's hand.

"I... I think it's been defeated!" she exclaimed, and then shrieked as she was assailed by a fresh contraction.

"This could be it," said Ramisse. "_Push, _Emi."

Emi started to groan with strain, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes, her face turning red from exertion.

"Keep going!" Ramisse encouraged. "You're almost there!" Finally, Emi's groan evolved into a scream and then it was all over. Ramisse drew it out of Emi's womb and passed it to Equenel, who used one clean claw to sever the cord. Back to Ramisse, who patted it on the back, and its lungs filled with air and the baby screamed.

Ramisse pulled a strip of cloth from her pack, swaddled the baby in it, and handed it to Emi. "It's a beautiful baby girl."

"I have a daughter," Emi said, and she laughed a little as she looked down at the baby. It looked exactly like Cassandra, with blond hair and blue eyes. "Hello there!"

Ramisse dashed from the shelter, calling, "Lorre! Lorre! Come and look at Emi's baby." She saw him kneeling on the ground in front of Cassandra, tears overflowing onto his face. Cassandra was lying prostrate on the ground, lifeless, one of the Wall of Flesh's teeth sticking up from her stomach.

Ramisse gently rested her hand on Lorre's shoulder. "Come on, Lorre. I think it's time to go home."

Lorre looked up at her, tears streaming from his eyes. He took a deep breath, stood up, and mumbled, "Okay."

"Have you thought of a name yet?" Thunder asked Emi, who was holding the baby.

"Yes," said Emi, glancing over at Lorre and the body of his lady love. "Cassandra."


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Back at the Warriors' Guild, it was time for the funeral. Cassandra lay in her casket on the podium, and her friends and loved ones passed by to honor the dead. Emi, Thunder, and their baby daughter Cassandra Zevulon were first, paying their last respects by touching the baby's pudgy hand to the fallen's pale cheek. Next came Ramisse, who removed one of her swords, gashed her forearm, and let her blood fall into the casket in tribute to her fallen comrade.

Equenel followed, each head's forked tongue flickering over Cassandra's body, drinking in her scent. After Equenel came the Hermit, who put a coin on her tongue. Then came Cyrrus, who took up his place at the lectern to begin the service. Last of all came Lorre, who plodded up the steps and stood over the coffin, unmoving, emotionless. He seemed to have turned into a statue.

Cyrrus turned around, ignoring him. "Friends, we are gathered here to mourn the passing of our beloved Cassandra Dale. Ramisse, if you will lead us in the chant."

Ramisse took a deep breath, and in a tremulous voice she started to sing the same Terrarian burial incantation that she and her friends Calythe and Monavelle had sung when they had buried Embrea Holt, ten long years ago.

"_Before life must come death,  
>After death comes new life,<br>Before light must come darkness,  
>Before happiness, strife.<em>

_But all wounds shall heal,  
>Time is the soothing balm<br>That dulls the pain of memory  
>To an everlasting calm.<em>

_Today we... we commemorate  
>Thy last days since birth,<br>And we relinquish thy... thy body  
>Unto... unto hallowed earth."<em>

Ramisse suddenly made a choking noise in her throat, squeaked out an "Excuse me" and bolted from the room.

Cyrrus turned back to the lectern. "We shall now call up friends and loved ones to recall their feelings about Cassandra."

Emi was first. "If it wasn't for Cassandra getting eaten, I don't think Lorre would have jumped into the Wall's mouth to save her. And if he hadn't done that, I'm certain that we would not have survived. Cassandra gave her own life and saved mine, and it is with great pride that I name my daughter for her. I'm sure she would have wanted it that way."

"Cassandra was a worthy comrade," hissed one of Equenel's heads. "She was brave, courageous, and strong. It's a shame she's not here with us today, but if it wasn't for her, none of us would be."

"I'm gonna cry," said the other head. "Can't help it. It's sentimental."

"You promised not to cry in public!" the first head snapped. Equenel left the stage with her heads squabbling with each other.

Several other people, including the Hermit, spoke and extolled Cassandra's various qualities and achievements. Finally, Cyrrus turned back to Lorre and asked, "Lorre? Is there anything you'd like to share?"

Lorre turned away from Cassandra and shuffled slowly to the lectern. After a brief sigh, he began to speak.

"Cassandra Dale was the sweetest, smartest, most beautiful girl I ever had the pleasure of meeting. She deserves to live. I should have been killed instead of her." A lump rose in his throat, and he fought to contain it. "And - and I am ashamed. I'm ashamed that I let her die. I loved her so much. Goddammit, why did I let her die?! I love her! And I let that tooth fall on her!" Lorre collapsed on the lectern and started to cry. "I couldn't protect her. That tooth should have fallen on me. I can't live without her. Cass, if you can hear me, I'm sorry," Lorre said through his sobs. Finally, he bolted from the room and sat down on a bench, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry."


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

**We're in the final stretch, guys! It's going to be less depressing, I promise!**

That night, as Lorre was asleep, he had a dream. He was walking through someplace, he couldn't tell what it was, but it was very misty. Then, through the clouds of mist, he saw Cassandra approach.

"Cassandra?" he asked, quavering. "Is it really you?"

Cassandra didn't answer. She just walked up, cocked her fist, and punched him in the face.

Lorre recoiled, rubbing his jaw where her fist had hit. "OUCH! What the hell was that for?!"

"'I can't live without her.' Seriously, Lorre? You would have tried to save me from that thing? How do you think _I _would feel if you died? You gotta think of my feelings too, Lorre."

"But I love you," he stammered. "I'm devastated."

"I love you too," she said. "But the fact is, our relationship won't work out because of my-" she made air quotes, "-_delicate condition._"

"What delicate condition? You're dead."

"That's what I meant," she huffed, exasperated. "My point is, Lorre, as much as we love each other, it isn't going to work. Even if I wanted to hang out with you in your dreams, it's kind of creepy. There are other girls out there, Lorre. It's time for you to let me go."

"I can't," Lorre said helplessly. "Don't you see?"

"Of course. But let me ask you this: When some nice girl likes you, and asks you to go out with her, what are you going to say? '_Sorry, but I'm in a relationship with my dead girlfriend, who I need to hold a freaking SEANCE to talk to?' _ No thanks." Cassandra turned on her heel, said, "Goodbye, Lorre," and walked off through the mist.

"No! DON'T LEAVE ME!" cried Lorre, trying to run after her.

"Yelling won't make me come back!" she replied, and Lorre woke up with a new realization.

Cassandra may be gone, he thought, but I don't have to dwell on it. I won't. She'll live on in my memory, but I'm going to stop crying that she's gone and live life while I'm here. Yes. That's what I'll do.

_TWO YEARS LATER..._

A knock sounded at the door of the Warriors' Guild. Lorre rushed to open it; he was expecting someone.

"Unkie Lorre!" said baby Cassandra as she toddled in, followed closely by Emi and Thunder.

"Hey there, kiddo! Ready for our training session?" Lorre asked, ruffling her hair.

"She wouldn't stop talking about it," Emi said, smiling. "Though I don't think you should have let her bring home her training sword. She hacked all her stuffed animals to bits!"

"Is that so?" Lorre laughed, bending down and smiling at Cassandra. "Well, you must have known that today we start practicing on dummies! Allow me to demonstrate." He wheeled out one for himself and a small one for Cassandra. Then he drew his silver broadsword and launched himself at the big dummy, his sword flashing in all directions. Straw and cloth flew everywhere.

Cassandra laughed and clapped her hands. "Mess!"

Lorre sheathed his broadsword. "Okay, now you try. Fencing stance!"

Cassandra drew her tiny copper shortsword and arranged herself in her position, then lunged forward and made a clumsy stab at the dummy in front of her. The sword sank into the dummy's stomach, and a single wisp of straw fell out of the tear.

"Well done! Now let's try holding the sword a little more up," Lorre said, lifting the tip of the little shortsword. Once again Cassandra lunged forward. The Warriors' Guild echoed with the sounds of ripping cloth and laughter.

_MEANWHILE_...

The Hermit walked through the spruce grove with his ax, collecting firewood. The sound of a faint footstep sounded in the snow behind him and he whirled around. Standing behind him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Nearly six feet tall, she had a bun of light blue hair and dark blue eyes. She wore a strapless dark blue dress, edged with sparkling white furs, and blue gloves of a lighter shade, edged with the same furs. Delicate, nearly translucent wings sprang from her shoulders and she wore a crown studded with small icicles.

The Hermit frowned. "This is my grove. What are you doing here?"

The woman smiled. "My purpose here is simple. The snow is my land. You are on my land. Therefore, you must get off my land before I take you off forcibly."

"I'm not leaving. This is my home," the Hermit snarled.

The woman shrugged. "Then you leave me no choice." She kissed her index finger and placed the satin-gloved digit in the middle of the Hermit's forehead. When she lifted her finger, there was a film of blue frost on his head. The Hermit's eyes widened in shock as the frost spread over the rest of his body, turning him into a perfect ice statue.

The woman turned around and started to walk away. Then, as an afterthought, she flashed a dazzling smile and flicked her hand, and the statue shattered into thousands of pieces...

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3!


End file.
